


Anti-Dragon

by 1000PaperCranes



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dragon Sickness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000PaperCranes/pseuds/1000PaperCranes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gold is for the Dragons.  It cannot love them back.  And Thorin, he does not love gold.  Not at all, not anymore.  It is time to fight for something better, wiser.  Family is what Thorin needs.</p><p>How would the battle of the five armies have been different if Bilbo and Thorin were sleeping together?</p><p>(I will add actual tags when I think of them.  Feel free to make suggestions)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anti-Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all mistakes are mine. I have no beta and it's my bedtime.

Thorin's mind was far afield, but he did have his moments of clarity. The Dragon Sickness has him, but around Bilbo, who despite his like of material things has no love of gold, the hold slackens. This day, like each day before it, was worse than the last.

Thorin sinks back, regaining his control by letting go of it completely. He enjoys the feeling of his Master Burglar crawling over his body and settling, tiny but powerful, to take the great King out of his head. Time loses all meaning; the world narrows down to the two of them, simply the larger and the smaller, perhaps the Dwarf and the Hobbit, but no more, and there is no less. When at last Bilbo grasps him by the ribcage, hobbit thumbs rasping over dwarfish nipples, and sinks deep into his body, Thorin forgets his own name.

For the first time since arriving in Erebor, Thorin is free of the Dragon Sickness, free even of its memory.

\--

It is a shame that Thorin must trade one set of memories for another. Bilbo could tell last night when Thorin became himself again, and then when he was in fact completely free of the Dragon Sickness, but as they walk to breakfast the hobbit can see it returning. He can see the past night slip away. It's in the way that Thorin slows their pace, bouncing steps nearly stumbling with good humor and life becoming steadier, heavier. A lewd joke dies on Thorin's lips, the shared moment it was to reference evaporating from his mind, and thank goodness that he is still merry, because here he laughs at his own forgetfulness even as he forgets that he has forgotten something. Bilbo tries to take comfort in the fact that Thorin is still laughing, face split wide in a grin, but it is hollow somehow.

And any hope a hobbit might have is dead by the time they reach their meal. Thorin is sedate. Bilbo's mind is split between sorrow not quite desperate enough to be grief and a desperate attempt to etch the image of the dwarf as he had been when they'd left the room this morning, tripping down the hallway upon each other, almost giddy with the promise of wine and kisses.

\--

Thorin is much worse. Balin does his best to maneuver his King into the presence of Bilbo Baggins. The hobbit, who is doubtless not a burglar but fills his role with a dutiful determination despite the truth, has a calming effect on the King Under the Mountain. Balin thinks that title lies a little; Thorin is King Under the Mountain's Control, is what he is. Unfortunately for them all, the Mountain is the only one having any measure of success. Thorin is sullen and solitary, the Arkenstone eludes them still, and Bilbo is visibly struggling with… something. Balin is very sure he does not want to know what that something is.

\--

Honestly, Thorin isn't sure if he's ever tickled anyone before. He catches Bilbo's flailing feet. The leathery hobbit soles are warm against his palms. Thorin smiles down upon the his Master Burglar, who was neither master nor burglar whence they met, but rather a creature soft and warm with an iron will buried beneath hobbit habits. Bilbo is still warm, even if his body has gone taught and narrow, packed tight with muscle from long and dangerous toils, no less the hobbit for his unconventional hardness.

Thorin can feel the clouds gathering, outside this place, a nasty low lying fog that waits to claim him, but he is safe here, with his hobbit and for the life of him he can't remember what the trouble is. He doesn't _want_ to. Bilbo threads his finger into Thorin's hair, tugging. Thorin leans down, tough hobbit feet still in either hand, pressing a kiss to his lover's heart.

Whatever is out there, he _will_ come back to this. He must. At that, Thorin puts all thoughts of the world aside. He captures Bilbo's lips in a languid kiss, gives himself over to the here and now. Perhaps they can join more than just their bodies, could forge two souls into one with a melting kiss.

\--

Bilbo isn't sure he can keep doing this. It hurts so very much to lose Thorin each time they leave this room. Here, like this, it's almost wonderful. Thorin lies mostly over him, the blanketing weight comforts Bilbo, even as the worries of what lies ahead, what becomes of Thorin, slip back in.

Mostly, Bilbo is content. His body aches in just the right way. His mind is still fuzzy with endorphins. Thorin is here, and calm. In fact, he's sleeping.

Thorin doesn’t snore. Somehow, Bilbo thought he would. Perhaps because he is a dwarf, although, what do hobbits know of dwarves? He takes a deep breath, waking Thorin without realizing.

Thorin sighs his own great breath, content upon waking, and muzzily believing that Bilbo is asleep. He ought to be. Their skin is dry, the sheets dry where they slip against Thorin's waist. Bilbo's doing. He lifts his head, planning to watch his hobbit sleep, only to find him lost between wakefulness and not. Thorin lights a kiss on Bilbo's lips. Focus comes to Bilbo's eyes.

"What troubles you?" Thorin's words are barely a whisper into the half-breath of space between them.

Bilbo muddles over the problem for a moment. In this place, this whatever-it-is they create together, Thorin doesn't remember the Dragon Sickness, seems totally unaware of anything but Bilbo and biology, frankly. He doesn't want to risk breaking that spell, for fear that they'll be unable to recapture it, but this is more important, because, if Bilbo is honest with himself, he knows that he will lose Thorin if things continue as they are.

Maybe, just maybe, there is a way. "The Arkenstone…" Bilbo lets the word hang, watches for what Thorin will do with it. He expects, hopes, for nothing. A blank look, or the one that means Thorin isn't going to admit he's confused.

Instead, Thorin hooks his chin back over Bilbo's shoulder. They are silent for what could be an eternity, but is likely only seconds. "If you find that thing," Thorin murmurs in Bilbo's ear, "keep it from me." Thorin knew that there was a storm gathering, as hard as it is even to string these nights together, and the Arkenstone must be at the heart of it. "Do not tell me you have it." And somehow Thorin knows that out there he does not remember this anymore than he remembers that now. "Not even here. That," he looks Bilbo in the eye, "I might remember." Thorin rests his cheek once more against Bilbo's neck, not quite counting the pulse marking life in Bilbo's throat, breathing into the dark space behind Bilbo's ear.

For his part, Bilbo concentrates on the warm breath puffing damply at his nape. He isn't sure whether or not to be relieved. After all, that is what Bilbo has done, and it is good to know that in his right mind, Thorin makes the same decision. But, it is still difficult and potentially dangerous, very dangerous, to keep the Arkenstone from the King Under the Mountain.

Bilbo feels Thorin's head move, lips dragging across‒ "Ah!" Bilbo's cry is quiet. Thorin had bitten him, at the juncture between neck and shoulder, but the sharp snap of pain crashes against a spike of arousal. Pain wins out; Thorin had bitten him _hard_.

Kissing away the minor welling of blood, Thorin attempts an apology. "Sorry," another swipe of lips, "for the pain." This time he kisses Bilbo's mouth. "I'm not sure how to explain that," Thorin soothes the wound with his mouth, "But it might help. One of us. Maybe."

\--

It is as if Thorin has two minds. And the mind that still loves Bilbo, loves them all but loves Bilbo most, has to fight tooth and nail, to protect him. All he can manage is the mail shirt. Until he is standing on the golden floor, and the rift is widening. His family. Bilbo. And then Thorin knows what he must do. He learned it with Bilbo, so many nights ago, in a moment when he was free of this miasma. A moment he can remember, now.

Thorin _lets go_ , and regains control. Leave the dragons here. Let them have their gold.

**Author's Note:**

> So maybe the battle isn't different, or maybe I'm sleepy and forgot what I was doing, but I kept wondering during the movie why Bilbo was exempt from scrutiny, why he was so special to Thorin. And then this happened.


End file.
